Hundred Stone

The City of Hyde sits on the eastern shoreline, where rain drizzles down like tears into the cracked asphalt of the cities abandoned streets.  Above, a ring of dark clouds have taken roost, refusing departure much like Poe’s raven; nevermore.  Winds whisper and taunt down the haunted alleyways, that stretch like strands of web from Central Square to the East Down Docks.  Do you hear the waves crashing on the beach?  There’s a deserted boardwalk there stalking out into the ocean, I’m standing there at the edge, you can see the glow from my cigarette for just a second before I flick it off into the dark sea below.